Le blog

National Borey for Infants and children (NBIC)

Our first day of treatment.
We were about to begin the first morning.
Sitting next to the treatment table, I exchanged a word with a friend from the mission: we were about to begin our first morning.
I turned my head and there she was…
Just like a feather, without a sound, she arrived, ‘deposited’ on my table…
Her nanny hastened to get the translator to explain that she had been found in the street and was blind from birth; today she was receiving her first osteopathic treatment.
I discovered this 2-year-old child, with a striking contrast between her puny body and the intensity of her presence: she had perceived me, and was waiting for me…
Her frail legs were twisted, her arms stretched out in front of her.
As soon as she sensed that I was totally available for the treatment, without a word she raised her hands and turned her fists against her eyes. Yes, I know, your nanny told me: you can’t see. Thank you for showing me, I understand”. I whispered these words to her.
And so it was at that moment that we finally met. She welcomed my hands.
“Tell me your story”.
Slowly, she rose and folded her legs, curling herself up and settling into the posture of a newborn baby on her back. “OK, something happened when you were born, but now you’re no longer a newborn baby, you’ve grown, so feel everything that’s good and beautiful in you”. The next moment, like a butterfly, this little girl spread her wings, and in a voice so thin, yet so melodious, she began to sing… Her arms opened up, revealing her congenital cataract, and with her graceful hands she made her little piece of paper, on which her identity was written, dance between her thumb and forefinger…
It was very beautiful, very gentle. A sweet encounter…